


Sherlock's Secret

by S_G_M



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anger, First Time, Futanari, Gay, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Resentment, Sex, Virgin Sherlock, intersexed, secret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-26 16:49:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2659295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/S_G_M/pseuds/S_G_M
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock has kept a secret well-hidden ever since he was a lad.  But, will Sherlock be able to muster the strength to tell John the truth before the growing gap between them becomes too great to bear, or will it be the end of it all?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sherlock's Secret

John and Sherlock had been living together for nearly five years now, and had grown ever closer as time ticked on.

There had been instances where they had very nearly gone far beyond the line of companionship and into the bounds of a more intimate liaison.

However, each time something began to happen, Sherlock promptly shut things down and pushed John away.

Sherlock knew he was different; in fact, he was far more uncommon than John would ever have fathomed, which was why despite his profound love and attraction for his flatmate and best friend, he would never permit John the chance to find out the truth for himself.

Sherlock couldn’t bear the thought of losing John, and he knew that this secret that he’d kept especially guarded, the one which he had kept from everybody, had the potential of destroying everything between himself and the good doctor.

No, he would much rather keep John as the best friend anyone could ever have, even if that meant that he found and married someone else, than lose him forever.

 

As they sat on the sofa together, watching some programme that John always watched at the same time each week, Sherlock noticed the familiar little glances that John was giving him.

John didn’t understand why on earth Sherlock wouldn’t take things further with him.

He knew very well that they both felt the same.

And, that it was not simple desire, but _love_ that was between them, it baffled John further that Sherlock refused to accept even a modest kiss.

John knew that he would never want anyone else in this same way.

He knew it very well indeed, with a failed marriage and a string of futile semi-relationships behind him.

Sherlock had always come between John and anyone that he tried to form a romantic relationship with, whether or not it had been intentional on Sherlock’s part.

His feelings for that brilliant consulting detective, with all of his snark and wit, along his dashing good looks and effortless grace, had worked his way into John’s heart so deeply that the feelings that he had for Sherlock would last a lifetime.

“John…”  Sherlock said a little chidingly, after John turned to look at him, the dirty thoughts on his mind transparent to Sherlock’s skilful eyes.

John sighed dejectedly and silently cursed himself for ever falling in love with such a man.

It had brought him such an amount of frustration and pain, along with all of the good that had come with it.

Sherlock swallowed, and quietly apologised.  His voice had been rougher than he’d intended.

John simply nodded, trying not to care, as he turned back to watch the telly.

Sherlock closed his eyes.

He loathed this, avoiding John in this manner, shoving him and his love away.

But, he had to.  There was no other way.

John opened his mouth, before closing it again.

It was a couple of minutes, before he turned to Sherlock, a nervous glint in his eyes as he clenched his fists and screwed up the courage to say what had been preying on his mind.

“Sherlock, I’ve been thinking about moving out.”  He announced, his voice tinged with bitterness and regret.

Sherlock knew that John didn’t want to leave, that was abundantly obvious.  But, John was quite serious in his words.

Sherlock hadn’t known of John’s idea of going away, of abandoning him.

After years of living with Sherlock, John had learnt how to put up something of a wall to protect his privacy a bit from his seemingly mind-reading flatmate.

Not that he used this talent often, but it did come in useful at times.

Sherlock blinked, feeling a stab of anxiety flash through him.

“…Look, I…  Damn it all, Sherlock, _I love you_.”  John half-growled, his frustration growing stronger as he struggled not to lose his temper.

He had hoped that it would never come to this, but he just couldn’t take it anymore.

“I love you, and I _know_ bloody well thatyou feel the same way about me, not that you’ve ever really done anything about it.  And, whenever _I_ try to, you become a block of ice!”  John continued, looking rather cross.

He shook his head, the barest trace of a dark grin on his face as his jaw set.

“You’ve ruined my life, Sherlock, you really have.”  He said in a softer tone, the words having slipped out of their own volition, though John knew the words were true.

Sherlock blinked, his breath catching in his throat as he sat there in silence, just listening.

He often said the wrong thing entirely when it came to emotionally charged circumstances, though it wasn’t as though Sherlock could do much more to damage things between them.

The distance that he’d put between John and himself had proven to be too great; this was mostly his fault.

“John…  I’m sorry, but-“ Sherlock began, but was cut off.

John’s eyes grew a bit larger.  “You’re sorry?  _I’m_ sorry, Sherlock. Maybe I was expecting too much of you, or maybe I was seeing what I wanted to see, I don’t know anymore.”  He snapped, hating the situation he found himself in and half rueing the day that he’d even met Sherlock.

“You don’t understand, John.”  Sherlock tried again, his tone patient and gentle, as he gazed at John’s very upset face.

John scoffed.  “I never do, though, do I?”  He asked a little indignantly, sniffing.  “Why don’t you explain it to me, then?  Go on, I’m listening.” 

John crossed his arms and cocked his head, waiting.

Sherlock looked pained.

It wasn’t something that he could easily say; his secret was one that had been a part of the reason why he’d never dated, why he’d kept himself segregated more or less from even the people that he could endure being around.

“Well?”  John prompted, wondering if Sherlock really did have anything to say.

Sherlock closed his eyes, and decided to just go through with it.

There was no going back now.

“John, I’m…  _Different_ from other men.”  Sherlock began, pausing a moment and screwing up the pluck to go on.

“Yeah, already knew that.”  John interjected, scratching his left temple.

Sherlock ignored this.

“My body isn’t quite the same as yours, John. And, I’ve been afraid that such a divergence may lead to you wanting nothing to do with me should you learn of it.”  He said truthfully, feeling nervousness gnawing away at him.

He knew John was about to ask questions, and that he would have to answer them.

It would be difficult.

John blinked, thinking about what Sherlock had just told him.

“What?  Different _how_?”  He asked, wondering if something had happened to Sherlock that had left some horrible mark or some kind of deformity that had left him with considerable self-consciousness issues about it.

Sherlock took a breath.

“John…  I was born intersexed; a hermaphrodite, if you will.”  He admitted unhappily, not able to look John in the eyes, fearing that the look of anger would be replaced by disgust.

Many people tended to be wholly repulsed by the idea of someone like him; of course, there were those who found such a notion quite the fetish.

Either way, Sherlock was not overtly fond of such people.

John looked stunned, though he was still listening.

“I had the breasts removed when I was in my early twenties, though below the belt…  Well, _that’s_ still as it was.  Fortunately, the scars on my chest have faded quite nicely.  You can barely tell, and that’s only if you look closely.”  Sherlock explained flatly, not daring to hope that John would appreciate what he’d been through; what he _still_ went through.

John didn’t know what to say.

It was such a tremendous shock.

“I’ll understand if you want nothing to do with me now.”  Sherlock told him, still not meeting his eyes.

John swallowed hard, feeling the pain in Sherlock’s words.

“Oh, Sherlock.”  He said in a hushed tone, realising now why he’d been rejected as he had been. 

Sherlock looked into John’s eyes, waiting for him to go on with baited breath.

“I love you, Sherlock.  No matter what.”  John assured him stubbornly, imagining what sort of shame the man he loved had suffered his entire life. “And, I’ll always be here for you.”

Sherlock felt a bit light-headed.

“You’re actually okay with this?”  He asked, needing to be absolutely certain.

John leaned in for a kiss, pleasantly finding that Sherlock was not pulling away as he’d always done before.

“Of course I am, you idiot.”  He replied warmly, before finally being able to press his lips against Sherlock’s.

 

 

After tasting one another’s mouths again and again, they both hungered for something more substantial.

They moved into Sherlock’s bedroom, since John wanted Sherlock to feel as comfortable as possible.

Sherlock was understandably cautious, though he had no reason to be anxious.

John was careful to be slow and gentle, his hands leisurely exploring along Sherlock’s sturdy torso, until he relaxed a bit more.

Once John was satisfied that Sherlock was at ease, he helped Sherlock remove his trousers.

John kissed Sherlock, cupping his love’s crotch with a firm but tender touch.

Sherlock had tensed at this, and John began to remove his hand.

“No.”  Sherlock breathed.  “It’s okay.”

John cocked an eyebrow.  “You sure?”  He asked carefully.

Sherlock nodded, and John continued.

He massaged Sherlock into a full on raging erection, moving his hands skilfully as Sherlock made the softest little whimpers against his neck.

The sounds, as well as the feeling of Sherlock’s breaths against his sensitive skin, caused quite the stir in John’s trousers.

John pulled down Sherlock’s mint green pants, looking a touch inquisitively at what lay between Sherlock’s legs.

Sherlock reddened in pure embarrassment, feeling horridly self-conscious.

John looked into Sherlock’s eyes, feeling bad for making him so uncomfortable.

“You’re perfect; every inch of you.  There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”  John told him affectionately, reaching out and brushing a stray curl from Sherlock’s face.  “I wouldn’t change you for the world.”

Sherlock opened his mouth, only to have his words kissed passionately away.

John had Sherlock lay down on the bed, and John’s fingers skated along Sherlock’s limber body, causing goosebumps to appear along the immaculate alabaster skin.

John gradually made his way down to Sherlock’s pubic area, keeping alert for any discomfort he might be causing.

John couldn’t help but stare just a little at the vagina that lay directly beneath Sherlock’s cock.

He wasn’t repulsed in the least, though he was curious.

John wrapped a hand around the thick, ropey penis, slowly moving his hand up and down a few times, before letting his thumb just graze the clitoris below the bollocks.

Sherlock made a soft noise, and John did it again, with the same results.

John leaned in, tonguing the little pink nub as he maintained an unhurried stroking rhythm as Sherlock grew wetter and wetter.

It didn’t take long before Sherlock’s occasional soft noise turned into gentle panting, and John could tell from the beginning twitches of Sherlock’s cock that he was on the edge.

John stopped, wanting to savour this moment.

“Take me.”  Sherlock breathed, his genitals aching lustily.

John made his way up to Sherlock’s delicious mouth, kissing him deeply as he positioned himself.

As he adjusted his throbbing erection before Sherlock’s dripping pussy, he paused momentarily.

“You’re ready?”  He asked, and Sherlock nodded, biting his lower lip in a way that was driving John crazy.

John ever so cautiously pressed in, Sherlock tensing a little as he felt a burning sensation as the skin stretched to accommodate John's girth.

John apologised, trying so hard to be gentle as he slowly entered inside.

He kissed Sherlock again in apology, just staying still to let Sherlock adjust to him.

When Sherlock had gotten more accustomed to the fullness, John began to leisurely go on with careful strokes.

Before long, they were both enjoying themselves thoroughly.

Sherlock’s sweet little moans of delight filled the air, spurring John on faster, until he felt himself approach the cusp of orgasm.

He knew he wouldn’t last as long as Sherlock going on like this, and so he gripped Sherlock’s leaking cock and began to work his hand up and down.

Sherlock began to pant harder, as his purely animalistic utterances turned desperate.

Just as the torrent of intensely electric sexual pleasure ripped through him, Sherlock reached out and gathered the bed sheet in clenched fists, his own incredibly powerful orgasm washing over him in violent waves that nearly made him black out.

Once the amazing sensations had ebbed, they lay in one another’s arms completely exhausted.

 

Together, they drifted steadily into perfect slumber, completely sated and entirely happy.

 

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this story hit me right out of the blue and I just had to run with it to see where it went.


End file.
